Circles and Squares
by BrookenLucas12
Summary: AU. Brain damaged from a car accident he caused four years ago, Nathan Scott leads a life he wasn't meant to lead, constantly caught up in the guilt of his careless mistakes. He'd like to fix everything. And then maybe Haley could finally forgive him. NH.
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note: **_I'm well aware that I'm in no position to be starting new stories, and this really wasn't even planned, but sometimes I just can't help myself, and I go crazy and just write. So far, I'm kind of in love with this idea and I keep getting even more ideas to go with it. I hope you enjoy it too!

This is very, very loosely based on the film 'The Lookout' starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I took the main basic concept, and will be using some of its great ideas, but this definitely isn't about a bank robbery.

Also, I'm not a Lucas/Peyton fan at all, so don't expect to really see any of them in this. But I'll be trying out a new ship I haven't before, and I hope you'll like that one, too, though they obviously won't be the main focus.

I'm honestly not even sure where I'm going with this, but I hope you'll stick around to see!

* * *

_**Circles and Squares **_

_**Prologue**_

He'll always remember this feeling, he thinks.

It is prom night, and as his dark Mustang speeds down the even darker country road, the top down and the wind blowing through his hair, he understands the feeling of invincibility. He will last forever. _This_ can last forever if he wants it to.

Nathan can't help but laugh as Peyton and Lucas giggle from behind him, and he hears Lucas murmur something about her being a tease, bringing himself up to a sitting position.

"Hales," he breathes her name huskily and yet somehow softly, not even meaning to. She is looking up at the sky with a content smile, and when she looks over at him, her large chocolate eyes ready for him to speak, he swallows hard. "Fireflies, they mate at night. And they glow as the look for each other, flying just a certain way so they can meet their match."

She makes a face, clearly disappointed. "That's romantic."

_She_ glows, he thinks to himself, but says nothing.

His brother grunts from behind his seat. "How you've gotten so many girls in the past, I will never know."

Haley looks uncomfortable as Lucas says this, and Nathan would like to punch him. She looks so pretty tonight, with her hair curled, falling in cinnamon-colored ringlets around her shoulders, and her dress, white and simple. He imagines this is the type of dress she'd wear to their wedding.

"Ready," he winks at Haley, and then turns off the headlights. There is a collective gasp as his passengers fear this move, but almost instantly the uncertainty is forgotten as the road lights up.

From overhead, hundreds, perhaps thousands of fireflies flutter through the sky, casting such a glow over the road, the teenagers feel as if they're floating through some sort of wonderland.

Haley's eyes widen as she laughs gleefully, and he can distinctly remember how she smelled like lavender when they slow danced that night, or how her lips had felt soft and confused in his mouth, and had tasted so sweet when they had first kissed just weeks ago.

She looks over at him in amazement and he can't help himself as he leans towards her, pulling her in for a kiss. She complies eagerly and when they pull away, foreheads balanced together, she is illuminated, the fireflies blazing just for her.

Peyton and Lucas have lifted themselves up onto the seats of the Mustang, probably feeling some form of euphoria themselves. They hold hands and scream with joy.

They are most certainly the only seniors not returning home from prom in a limo, but he's planned this since the beginning and it's so, so worth it.

He can tell Haley thinks so too, as she squeezes his hand in his.

As the synchronized large groups begin to dissipate, Lucas says nervously from the backseat, "Nate, maybe you should turn on the lights now."

Perhaps Nathan doesn't hear him, or he doesn't want to hear him because he does not want this to end. He shakes his head, and presses his foot on the gas petal.

Peyton seems panicked now, the darkness suddenly enveloping them. "Nathan!"

He glances at Haley once more as he flicks on the lights, so sure of himself, like when he flicks his wrist to toss a basketball into a net, poetry in motion, knowing the ball will simply swish through however he wants it to.

But the lights shine on something he did not expect to see there. A tractor, is it? It's so yellow, and so quick to appear. He can't even break or turn the wheel, and his athletic reflexes fail him for the one time he actually needs them.

All he hears is the sickening crash of metal on metal and the cries from behind him and then there is darkness, and all he wants to do is hold Haley's hand and watch the fireflies with her again.

But he is disappearing, and he can't remember ever feeling so alone.


	2. It's You I See, But You Don't See Me

_**Author's Note: **_I'm hoping with time, more people will get invested in this story and leave longer reviews. My favorite part of this, other than the writing, is reading all the great stuff you guys say. I love knowing my readers and hearing what you have to say, so feel free to leave any and all comments.

This story is so interesting and different to write for me, especially since I haven't written anything like this before. All of a sudden lately, I've been getting _tons_ of ideas for stories. I mean, so many I don't know what to do with myself. All of them are dark and depressing and different and fun, so hopefully I'll get around to posting them all.

You'll get quite a bit of background in here, and yes, I know Tree Hill University isn't a university, and if it was one, it certainly wouldn't be better than Duke. Heh.

Also, you'll notice there are flashback in this chapter. There will be a lot more throughout the story, too.

* * *

_**Circles and Squares**_

_**Chapter One: It's You I See, But You Don't See Me  
**_

He woke up.

He took a shower… with soap.

He shaved. Sometimes, he cried for no reason.

Almost every day, he would examine the faint scar that disappeared into his hairline, now lightened pink four years after the accident.

If you had known him before the accident, and were to look at him now, he thought, you'd never know how broken he was; all the damage was on the inside.

He ventured into the kitchen, following the small post-it notes left behind by his roommate, instructing him on how to make his breakfast. He did not allow himself to think about what he was doing, to feel any embarrassment for not being able to even prepare his own meals.

Once, all these new adjustments had pained him so greatly, he would lay in bed for days, staring at the ceiling. He'd been Nathan Scott once, destined for greatness. And now he was merely a shell of that person, some slow individual that had simply taken refuge in his body. It had taken him almost a year to accept that he'd be this way for the rest of his life. And still, this was only if he did not allow himself to think about it.

As he walked out the door, his eyes hesitated over the two sets of keys dangling from the wall. As his eyes read his own name labeled neatly in a handwriting that wasn't his own over one set, he grabbed it.

The walk to his car was often an unpleasant experience. He saw several neighbors daily, and yet found he could almost never remember their names.

"Hey Nathan!" The short, bald man with the cool accent would say.

"Oh…hey." He'd reply with a small smile, begging his mind to allow the name to slip from its grasp, back into his reach. These people probably did not know him, did not know what he'd been through over the years. They thought he was a normal twenty-one year old who only cared about partying and getting laid, and perhaps his mother.

Today however, he saw only the mean old lady who shot him dirty looks. It was obvious to him that she thought he was just a stupid young adult. Her name, ironically, was the only one he could remember. Mrs. Hunt. Or was it Mrs. Hunter? Well, one of the two.

He forced a polite smile onto his face, but she ignored him, huffing all the way to her own car.

Nathan swallowed and walked to his own car, a silver Volkswagen that his parents had purchased for him upon his high school graduation. He had not deserved it, after everything he'd put them through, but he had needed a car, so he'd accepted it.

He unlocked the car, took the familiar (and sometimes unfamiliar) route he took every Wednesday. This was one of the few events he always remembered. One, because it was written down in the small notebook he always carried around with him. And two, because it was one of the only things he ever looked forward to.

He pulled into a space, checked his reflection, and slowly walked up the steps of the 'Gregory & West Mental Health Center'. He'd be meeting with Alison West, his therapist of over three years. He'd first started seeing her when he'd moved to Tree Hill from Chapel Hill, soon after his high school graduation. She was the only psychiatrist he'd had since the accident that he'd liked, mostly because she was the only one that treated him like a human being

* * *

Alison West was an attractive woman in her late thirties, with curly hair that reminded Nathan faintly of Peyton Sawyer.

She clicked her pen as she flipped through her notes, and smiled at him with a genuinely interested smile. "How has your week been, Nathan?"

He shrugged, as he often did when she asked him this question. "It's been alright, I guess."

Her office had a comfortable feel to it. He liked the fabric of the couch, and the pale yellow color of the walls. He liked the way she always played with her heels, kicking them off her feet, and then slowly putting them back on, over and over. It was like a nervous tick she had, which made him feel less embarrassed about his own.

"And two days ago was Lucas's birthday, right?" He nodded slowly. "What did you do?"

Nathan smiled faintly. "Mom and I went to see him."

Alison nodded. "What about Dan?"

"He didn't go," he shook his head, frowning slightly. "Dad doesn't like going to the burial grounds. He thinks it's a waste, and that Lucas can't hear us talking to him anyway."

"And what do you think, Nathan?"

"I-- I don't know. I hope he can hear us, and mom definitely thinks he can. But I don't know what I believe. And sometimes I think maybe it's better if he can't hear us."

"Why is that?"

"Because," he hated when they talked about Lucas or the accident. He liked talking about the problems in his daily life, or the good things in his life. Mostly, he just liked the talking, period. But he didn't like feeling vulnerable, he didn't like feeling like he might cry if he continued. "I think he probably hates me."

"Nathan," she shook her head. "From what you've told me about Lucas, he was far too good a person to hate you. I'm sure he knows it was an accident."

"I'd hate me, if I were him."

He just wanted to change the subject. On Sunday, he'd nearly gotten a puppy he'd seen at the pet store.

"I think you're a little too hard on yourself."

He shrugged, and then mumbled. "I'm thinking about trying out for a higher position at work."

She quickly accepted the fact that he'd changed the subject, as he often times did. "What position?"

"Bank teller." He'd been working for a couple years as the janitor at the local bank in Tree Hill, coming in for the late shift every night, and sometimes during the day when they needed him.

Alison nodded and he could tell by the way she was looking at him that she didn't think he could do it. "Do you think you can handle that?"

"I've been practicing counting money and greeting people and pulling up account information with Brooke." For almost two months now, and he almost felt as if it were helping his short term memory, somewhat.

"Does Brooke think you can do it?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Okay, good."

Her skepticism made Nathan feel defensive. "It's not like it's that hard. This is a job pretty much anyone can do. If I'd never had that accident, you wouldn't be doubting me at all."

"I'm not doubting you, Nathan. But you know as well as I do that your short term memory can get terrible when you feel too pressured. Someone that's having a bad day could come in with a terrible attitude, and you might forget what you're doing."

Stubbornly, he crossed his arms. "I'm not an idiot."

"I'm well aware."

There was a long silence before Alison sighed. "What are your plans for the day?"

He loosened up. He found his anger subsiding and the reason for his anger slowly beginning to falter in his mind. "I was thinking I'd get some food and then maybe stop by the university."

"Nathan," She said with a shake of her head, "I thought we agreed you would stop doing that."

"I'm not anymore." He lied.

She tapped her foot. "Did you do it yesterday?"

Nathan looked away to avoid her eyes.

"You promised me that you were going to stop, Nathan. We agreed it was unhealthy for you to watch Haley."

"You make it sound like I'm stalking her," he protested. "I just like to see how's she doing."

"Sitting on a park bench at Tree Hill University and watching Haley walk to her classes is not seeing how she's doing. Do you remember what happened last time you and Haley spoke?"

It was one of the things he tried hardest to forget, but found he never could. How ironic that he always remembered the things he didn't want to.

His lowered his head. "One of these days, I'm going to walk up to her and say something."

"Haley is no longer a part of your life, Nathan. And she hasn't been for four years. You know that nothing is going to change that." He didn't want to believe her, but a part of him knew it was true.

He didn't say anything, and she continued. "Have you met any other girls recently?"

"No."

"Have you tried?"

"No."

"Nathan," Alison shook her head, her hazel eyes staring hard into his. "I worry about you sometimes."

"Yeah," he chuckled though nothing was funny. "Me too."

* * *

_All he can see is blood. Across his eyes, it looks more black than anything. He is shivering; the cold is seeping slowly through his body, taking him over. _

_He coughs. He wants to yell out for Lucas or Haley, but he finds he cannot move. _

_In fact, he cannot feel his body at all. He is there, cold and shivering, but with no actual body._

_He thinks this is what death must feel like. _

* * *

Tree Hill University was easily the best college in the state, followed closely by Duke. When he'd been in high school, in the prime of his basketball career, he'd been sure he'd end up a Tree Hill Raven. His father had always been sure to remind him that THU was easily one the best colleges in the country for sports, especially basketball.

He could still remember the summer after the accident, sitting outside this large school, knowing he'd never be able to come here. Knowing his acceptance would be taken away from him, that he'd never get the chance to find out which courses interested him even the slightest, that he'd never play basketball seriously. His life was over, and even more so than that, his brother's life was over.

Lucas had been accepted to Stanford weeks before the accident, and Peyton was going to go to California with him. She would paint, and he would write. And after everything that had happened, Nathan felt dreadful for allowing himself to mourn his own life, when there were two people who had lost their own dreams because of his stupidity.

He felt often that the memory of his past life was just the memory of someone else's. Unfortunately, these were the only memories that stayed stuck in his mind, and he replayed them over and over like a movie, waiting and watching for the main character's tragedy, _knowing_ it would lead to this, but not being able to stop the disaster.

He sat on a bench overlooking the main quad of Tree Hill University, watching the students interact. Toned boys throwing footballs, pretty girls gossiping or watching together, some reading by themselves, couples frolicking, large groups of mixed ethnic groups and genders, study groups. He wondered if he blended in well. If these people looked at him as probably another student.

It was a warm August day, and most wore light clothing. The sun shined, covering the school in a perfect equilibrium of day and illumination.

He saw her then, walking.

Haley wore a pale blue dress, falling to her knees and exposing her shoulders. Her hair was getting long, spilling down her back in thick waves. She smiled at an acquaintance, then looked down, continuing to walk. She looked beautiful, just like she did every time he saw her.

They hadn't spoken in years, but still, the sight of her reminded him of that one point in time, when he was sure he loved her.

Guiltily, Nathan lowered his eyes to the ground. He wasn't supposed to be here, and he knew it, but he couldn't help himself.

He missed her. He missed the way she'd looked at him. Not like other girls had, in an obsessive, fanatical way. Haley had been different. She had been surprised by his interest in her, had been patient with him when he had not understood his homework, or had made a mistake with their relationship. She had always accepted him for who he was, and he had ruined it all.

Lucas and Peyton had died that day in the crash, but it was him and Haley who had become ghosts.

After the accident, he hadn't returned to school. His grief mixed with his new disabilities had made him more than unable. He could not stand the sight of himself. A murderer, he thought, when he'd look in the mirror, an idiot. He had slept and stared and cried and mourned. And he had missed Haley, and Lucas, and even Peyton, though she'd always thought he was a pompous jackass.

At the funerals, Peyton's father, so overcome with losing the only person in his life that had mattered, had made a scene. He had screamed at Nathan, he had tried to fight Nathan, he had been drunk. Nathan wondered how it was that his own parents did not hate him, but Dan and Karen Scott had been the most kind they'd ever been after his brother's death.

At first, the loss of short term memory confused and angered him, and still today, it sometimes got the best of him. He'd be on the stairs, and forget if he were going up or down, he'd forget how to make pasta, conversations that he'd had moments before completely slipped from his memory; it became necessary for him to write everything down.

Sometimes, when he was really nervous, he'd begin to limp. When he thought too hard, he would end up so confused he would forget everything he'd been trying to remember. It was a constant burden.

He could not work out because gyms were too dangerous for him, so he'd become thin over the years, the only muscle left in him from his years of working out in high school. He had lost the ability to attract women, because though his natural attractiveness was still apparent, his capability to flirt had left him long ago. Witty banter never happened, mostly because he was usually so nervous. With Brooke, he could banter playfully, but even then he'd sometimes get lost.

And he missed his brother. A part of him had died along with Lucas that night. The one person in his life that he'd always been able to count on, that he'd always looked up to… was gone. They had been born barely a year apart -- his father's sperm always super -- and his parents had held Lucas back a year so that him and Nathan could graduate together. And even in doing this, they had not been able to.

He wanted to fix things. He wanted to go back in time and change what he'd done, make it all better. And then maybe, possibly, Haley could finally forgive him.

* * *

"_Hey, buddy, can you hear me? Blink once for yes." _

_He blinks, unable to move anything else. _

"_Alright, can we get a stretcher over here?" He can barely make out the man's shape. How has he ended up here, on the ground? He'd been wearing his seatbelt, hadn't he? _

"_..the girl says there were two other people in the car, John. Get another ambulance here.." _

"_..ejected one hundred feet.." _

"…_severe lacerations on the head, possible broken back.." _

_There are so many questions he needs to ask, but he's disappearing. _


	3. Indistinct Wires, Indistinct Colors

**Author's Note: **Oh my God, I'm so sorry this took so long, but it was just disgustingly hard to write. These first few chapters have been difficult because of how alternate universe this story is.

I'm not sure how invested you guys are with what I'm doing here, but so far the feedback is been so amazing. Thank you so much.

The plans I have for this story are really interesting (hopefully you'll think so too) so bear with me if it can take a while to update sometimes.

* * *

_**Circles and Squares **_

_**Chapter Two: Indistinct Wires, Indistinct Colors **_

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong here, but I _believe _I just won. _Again_." With her eyebrows quirked in a way most found adorable, Brooke grinned, allowing her dimples to flash him teasingly.

Nathan frowned, looking down at his cards. After a moment, he tossed them down onto the table. "Whatever."

"Oh," she laughed. "Don't be sore, Nathan. It's not my fault I'm naturally gifted at everything I do."

"Really? So you're sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you're an insane cheater?" In fact, she really was just better than him at card games. He would not admit it to her, but playing cards was, in a sense, a brain exercise for him. Most games that required thinking were. Where as most people could think quickly and use natural logic, he needed to take the time to _find_ natural logic.

"Nathan Scott, I have never cheated a day in my life!" She gasped, but it was playful. She leaned back in her seat, the swell of her stomach catching his eye. Brooke was just under six months pregnant, and still, he was in awe of the fact. A part of him wondered if he'd ever himself have children, or if he was destined to be alone. What kind of father would he be, anyhow?

They were sitting in Brooke's house, a small but nicely decorated two bedroom she shared with her husband and Nathan's best friend, Jake Jagielski. For her, he knew that this was a step-down from the houses she'd lived in before. She'd always been wealthy, but her parents had cut her off upon her refusal to end her relationship with Jake.

If Brooke missed being rich, she did not let on. She had painted her entire house herself, colorful and bright like she was. Every room was so Brooke-like, if you knew her, you'd know she lived there. She seemed perfectly content working as an assistant manager at a popular clothing store in Tree Hill, using her discount to get the clothes she wanted. She seemed fine clipping coupons when it was necessary. If you brought up her parents or her upbringing, it was rare you'd get much out of her. This was part of the reason Nathan only knew little about Brooke's own experience at Chapel Hill High, though she'd been only a grade below him. He had not known her then, so he figured it didn't really matter much anyway.

She rubbed her stomach. "Let's get food! I'm starving."

He liked that Brooke didn't treat him like other people did. Like he was… _special_. Jake treated him normally too, and Nathan found that he always liked being in their company. Brooke and Jake were everything he was not, and that was a good thing.

He sighed loudly in mock disapproval. "You're always hungry these days."

"Hey, I'm eating for two! I'm perfectly normal-sized for six months. In fact, I'm probably even a little on the slim side." She attempted in vain to suck in her stomach, to which Nathan laughed.

She rose. "Come on, let's at least go see a movie or something."

"You just want to get out of the house, huh?"

"The baby does, Nathan. The baby does." She was very pretty. He'd always noticed, but of course, he'd never done anything about it. He especially liked her dimples and her eyes, and the way her nose turned up. He liked that she didn't look like Haley, because it was too painful to be constantly reminded of her. But of course, his brain would automatically always think, 'I like that she doesn't look like Haley', which would prompt him to think of Haley, which would defeat the whole purpose of her not looking like Haley and not reminding him of her.

"Come on, buddy. There's this new movie out… Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey… unbeatable combination. As we've seen before."

He did not recognize the names. "Where have we seen them before?"

She gasped as if she was actually surprised he did not remember. Like it was not in his character to forget all the big details. Most of the time, he'd forget a movie _as_ he was watching it. "_How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days_?! Only the best movie ever!"

"Oh right," he lied. "Yeah, I remember."

She smiled at him in a way she knew that he did not. "Well, I hear this one's even better."

--

_He can tell instantly from the tone of his mother's voice on the phone that he's going to be getting in trouble. For what, he doesn't know. It's not like it's unusual. He's always getting in trouble for something; ditching, coming home past curfew, having "attitude". _

_When he walks into the kitchen, slinging his backpack to the floor, he catches his father's uneasy gaze. His dad never likes getting him into trouble, but his mother thrives on it, it seems. _

_Karen is standing by the island in the kitchen, looking thoroughly pissed off. _

_Nathan tries to play coy. "What's up, guys?" _

_His mother laughs a laugh that tells him she doesn't think it's funny. "Not your grades, that's for sure."_

_Oh. That's what this is about._

"_Sorry," he says easily, "I've been really busy with basketball so I guess I've just been slacking."_

"_No," his mother says firmly. "You've been __**slacking**__ since you entered middle school. This is __**not**__ slacking. You're failing all of your classes, Nathan. All of them!" _

"_I've got a D in some of my classes. That's passing." He argues._

"_Not in my book. You're getting these grades up, Nathaniel Scott. Or so help me God, no more basketball." _

"_What?" He turns to look at his dad for support, and sure enough, dear old dad is shaking his head at Karen. _

"_Karen, with his basketball talent, he doesn't __**need**__ to be a straight-A student. I don't understand why you're pushing this." Dan looks almost disgusted. _

"_I'm not saying that he needs to be a straight-A student. I'm saying he needs to be passing his classes. If Lucas can play basketball __**and **__have a perfect grade point average, there's no reason why Nathan can't __**at least**__ be getting some C's." _

"_Fine, mom. I'll try harder." He rolls his eyes and reaches for his backpack. _

"_Oh, you think I'm leaving it up to you?" She laughs again. It's beginning to really annoy him. _

"_What are you going to do?" _

"_I'm not doing anything. __**You're**__ getting a tutor." _

"_What? No, I'm not." He's not going to waste the only free time he has with some annoying geek he's probably just going to end up paying to do his homework anyway._

"_Okay. It's up to you. You get a tutor, or I call Coach Durham up right now and inform him about our little situation." _

_She smiles and he sighs loudly, a frown creasing between his brows._

--

Jake Jagielski was a cop. A good one; the kind that didn't just stop people to be a jackass, but really got into the field to _help_ people. From the first day Nathan had ever met him, he'd admired and idolized him. Jake Jagielski was _that_ guy, the one you wanted your kid to grow up to be like, the one you wanted to be best friends with, the one you'd _never_ want to bring around your girlfriend.

He worked hard to support himself and Brooke. Night shifts and sometimes even day shifts. They'd married only months after meeting, and he'd vowed from the second he'd met her that he'd take care of her, even if he had to kill himself doing it.

Now, as they sat in the food court of the mall, Brooke and Jake linked hands and giggled and flirted like they'd just met. Occasionally, Jake's hand would drop to Brooke's stomach, and she would glow. Nathan found he was insanely jealous of their relationship.

After the movie, which Nathan could actually remember, Jake had called Brooke to inform her he was off work, so they'd all met up in the food court. Of course, after just minutes, the two were grabbing at each other like teenagers, and Nathan felt like a third wheel.

"So this guy," Jake was saying, pausing to kiss Brooke's cheek. "He's like, completely wasted. I mean, he could barely talk, and his car was just _all_ over the road. So I stop him and I say, 'sir, have you been drinking?--"

Brooke interrupted. "Oh, I love when you talk cop-talk!"

He grinned. "So _anyway_," he shot Brooke a look. "He says, 'Bad cop! No donut!' like I'm some four hundred pound mall security _dog_. _And _it was two-thirty in the afternoon. People these days." He shook his head, laughing lightly.

Nathan chuckled, but could not help but feel uncomfortable. As much as he loved Jake, and as much as he loved Brooke, he felt like he was imposing.

"You know," he cleared his throat. "I think I'm going to go. I've got work in a couple hours."

Brooke frowned. "No, stay. We'll take you."

"Yeah, I'll drive you." Jake said.

"I think I'd just rather walk. Don't worry, guys. Have a good night. Brooke, maybe you can drag Jake to one of your lame movies this time." He joked.

Jake shook his head. "No way."

"Hey! No fair! I'm pregnant." She leaned back in her seat with a pout, and both men laughed.

"Alright, Nate. Call me if you need anything, okay?" Jake said to Nathan in a way that made Nathan feel as if they were brothers.

Nathan nodded and stood, and as he was walking away, he heard Jake saying, "You know, you can't just _always_ use that as an excuse.."

And Brooke replied, "Of course I can!"

--

_A talk in the car on the way to school with his father just reassures him that his mother is serious. His father keeps repeating, 'she is __**so**__ unreasonable sometimes. She just doesn't understand, son.' and Nathan would kind of like to tell his father that he gets it. He doesn't want to lose basketball either, he'll do the tutoring._

_After the day is over, and he is worn out from practice, he remembers the dreaded lesson and he shuffles over to the tutoring center, ducking his head whenever he sees someone he recognizes._

_It is nearly six-thirty, but several people are still inside, and he curses inwardly. In a way, he'd like to be the only person that needs help, just so he doesn't have to deal with all these other people knowing._

_He stands awkwardly by the door, hands stuffed into his pockets. If none of these tutors claim him within the next few minutes, he thinks, he'll leave and tell his mother the tutor flaked._

_Nathan waits a few seconds, before turning to leave. A voice interrupts him just as he is making his escape._

"_Are you Nathan Scott?" His shoulders sag as he faces the voice; a teenage boy with bad skin and a slight lisp. _

"_Yes."_

"_Alright," the kid is chewing gum, smacking it between his teeth. For just a moment, Nathan believes he hates his mom. "You're with Haley. The brunette over there in the green." _

_He can't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he sees that she looks relatively normal. She looks like what he'd probably picture a girl tutor looking like. Not over the top pretty, but more cute. _

_She looks over on instinct, and he gives a small wave as he makes his way over to her. _

_Haley wears a green cardigan and her hair is a cinnamon brown and her eyes are probably the biggest eyes he's ever seen, and he can't help but smile as he takes a seat across from her._

_She grabs a pair of glasses off the table and puts them on, which somehow makes her look even cuter. "Hi, I'm Haley," she says briefly before looking down at what he guesses is his transcript. "And you must be Nathan."_

"_That'd be me." He vaguely wonders if she already knows who he is, if she's gone to any basketball games._

"_Look," she says, "I just want to be sure that you're really going to try. Because if you're not going to try, then you're wasting my time. My guess is your grades aren't good because of your lack of effort. Am I right?"_

_He swallows. "Um, yeah. I guess."_

_She continues. "And now you're so far behind that even if you wanted to try, you wouldn't know what was going on?" _

"_Basically."_

_A sigh. "Okay. So are you going to try?"_

"_If I don't, I'm off the basketball team. If I'm off the basketball team, I have no future. There's your answer." _

_She takes off her glasses and for the first time, makes complete eye contact with him. He wonders what she thinks of him._

"_Well, this should be interesting." _

--

The bell rang as he closed the door behind him. No one looked up, and he found that he was glad. He liked being invisible sometimes, especially when he was sad.

Nathan pulled a stool back at the bar, and took a seat, clearing his throat to notify the bartender of his existence.

"What do you want?"

"I'll have a beer." He said.

"It's on me." He looked to his left, where a man about his age - possibly a few years older - had taken a seat. "You're Nathan Scott, right?"

He swallowed. "Um, yeah."

"You probably don't remember me," the guy laughed. "We went to high school together. Actually, I was a year older than you. Graduated the year you took us to the state championships for the first time."

He nodded, slightly embarrassed. Did this guy know what had happened the next year? What he'd done? Probably. He braced himself for the question.

"My name's Felix."

"Oh yeah," A sudden image of this guy starting a fight at school popped into his head. "I remember you."

"I've reformed a bit since high school," he chuckled as if he was reading Nathan's thoughts. "What about you? What are you up to?"

Nathan chugged his beer. "You know, man. Same stuff as usual."

"I heard about your accident," Felix said slowly and Nathan winced. "I'm really sorry, man. I still remember when my mom told me. I was so surprised. Must have changed everything for you."

"I don't really feel like talking about it."

"I knew your brother. Cool guy. It's a shame, what happened."

Nathan laughed bitterly. "You think? It's a little more than a shame. Nothing is the way it's supposed to be, and it's all my fault."

"What happened to you?" Felix pried. "In the accident, I mean."

"Does it look like anything happened to me?" He growled, turning to look Felix in the eye.

"Something happened," Felix nodded. "You're different. You're…"

"Slower?" Nathan shook his head. "I'm out of here."

"Hey, man." Felix called after him as he started to get up, "I didn't mean to offend you, I was just curious!"

Nathan clenched his fists at his sides as he left.

--

"_Why did you want to meet here?" Haley asks him as he takes a seat. They are by the docks near the river, his favorite place in town. Often times, he goes running here. Sometimes he just sits by himself and looks at the river. _

_He shrugs. "I like it here. Plus, I like it way better than the tutoring center. That place is so stifling." _

"_Are you sure you won't get distracted here?" She asks unsurely, obviously having noted his interest in the atmosphere._

_He frowns. "I don't have problems focusing." _

"_Your grades disagree." She says._

"_You know," he is suddenly frustrated with her. She thinks he's an idiot. He understands that now. "I just don't care. I don't pay attention in class because I know it doesn't matter. I'm not smart. My brother is. My brother is essentially perfect. He doesn't have to lift a finger and he gets great grades and still plays basketball probably as good as I do. Me? Look, even if I tried, it wouldn't matter. I'm not smart, and I never will be. So you're probably right… I'm wasting your time." _

"_Wait," she bites her lip. "I'm sorry for how I've been treating you. I guess," she looks around at the river, at how it gleams in the morning, somehow always managing to look appealing, even on the coldest of days. "there's sort of an accepted idea of you, and I bought into it. But I don't think you're stupid. I think if you tried, you could be really educated. You're already smart, but you need to learn to care."_

_He sighs, feeling slightly embarrassed at his little outburst._

"_You really think you can help me?"_

_She smiles brightly. "I'm sure, now." _


End file.
